


Pregernante

by Blake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Consent, Fertility kink, Humor, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Miscommunication, Pregnancy Kink, Unnegotiated Kink, Unprotected Sex, duh - Freeform, pure of heart dumb of ass, sex education is way important guys, they share that really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake/pseuds/Blake
Summary: Finn can’t stop thinking about it. Even with Poe hard and thick inside him, narrowing Finn’s consciousness to that hot pressure filling him up. Even with Poe rocking into him firm and steady, knocking loose every other thought. Even with Poe sliding his hands up and down Finn’s back, dropping a kiss to his spine every once in a while, melting away all his tension. Even then, the one subject ricocheting around his brain like blaster fire between sealed walls:Does he really want to get me pregnant?Alternate summary:The opposite of "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant"
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 18
Kudos: 140





	Pregernante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HurdyGurdy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurdyGurdy/gifts).



> Happy birthday, my dear friend Jen! Here's some fertility kink StormPilot to brighten your day! Wish we could have hit all those museums with you <3
> 
> As the tags suggest, there are some real consent issues here but NONE of it is due to intent or manipulation. Pure miscommunication. My jam.

Finn can’t stop thinking about it. Even with Poe hard and thick inside him, narrowing Finn’s consciousness to that hot pressure filling him up. Even with Poe rocking into him firm and steady, knocking loose every other thought. Even with Poe sliding his hands up and down Finn’s back, dropping a kiss to his spine every once in a while, melting away all his tension. Even then, the one subject ricocheting around his brain like blaster fire between sealed walls:

_Does he really want to get me pregnant?_

He thinks so hard about it, he tears a hole in the thin, regulation sheet he’s got two fists in. He worries so much, he kind of assumes he’s not even aroused, that any minute now, Poe will reach around and find him soft, and then stop and ask him what’s wrong, and then they’ll have to have this whole impossible conversation that Finn’s too modest to initiate. _Do you ejaculate in me because you like the risk? Or because you like the idea of impregnating me? Do you even realize you’re doing it, or are you just too swept up in how good it feels to pull out?_

Finn worries and worries, but then he feels all the signs he’s proud to have memorized as signs that Poe is getting close—the stutter of his hips, the graze of his teeth on meat of Finn’s back, and that building, pulsing throb deep inside him that means—And Finn feels _himself_ coming, vision edged out by a haze of blue, stomach convulsively knotting and releasing around a core pleasure. He watches himself spurt all over the sheets, watches himself twitch and leak, watches his thighs shaking from impact as Poe thrusts in a final few times and then comes inside. Then Finn slides his eyes shut, basking in the warmth filling him from the inside out, overwhelmed and sinking into a feeling that’s something like absolute gratitude.

~~~

They don’t even do it that way very often. Sex. The kind where Poe is inside him. Where Poe _fucks_ him, Poe would want him to say, because he doesn’t think Finn should be doing things if he doesn’t know how to talk about them. Or rather, to talk about them in a specific way. When Finn says words like _penis_ or _intercourse_ , Poe usually laughs and goes soft, and Finn gets embarrassed until they kiss for long enough that Poe can give him a demonstration of a new word.

Poe doesn’t fuck him that often, because there are a surprising number of things they can do together that require less preparation and clean-up. Also, Poe loves to get fucked, too. And Finn loves to fuck him. He loves trying to hold Poe as close to him as possible, wrapping his arms around him, smelling the skin of his neck, feeling the sweat build between their chests, staring into Poe’s smiling eyes until Poe inevitably gets greedy and finds a way to wriggle over onto his front and demands to be fucked deep and hard right into the mattress.

But every time they’re kissing and things start to build and breathing gets hard, Finn has the thought, _Are we going to do it? Is he going to come inside me again?_

It wasn’t always that way. Just a few weeks ago, he hadn’t even thought about how babies happened. Just a few months before that, he hadn’t even had sex. So when Rey had caught him— _again_ —wrapped in a dirty sheet and sneaking out of Poe’s quarters, punched him in the arm, and said, “You two keep it up like that and you’ll end up pregnant,” it was kind of a mind-blowing moment for him.

~~~

He knows he should talk to Poe about it, but it just doesn’t come up that often. Not at first.

One time after Poe flies back after a mission, things get hot and heavy really fast, and Finn doesn’t even have a moment to worry about _the thing_ until Poe is already inside him, bare and ready. When Finn remembers, he goes tense. Poe pulls right out and says, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, sweetheart, is this too fast? I should have asked more. What do you want, babe?”

But Finn is too turned on to express his frustration, to convince Poe that he _does_ deserve to have Poe come inside him, so he just kind of backs up onto Poe’s cock and bites his lip until he gets his point across. “You want me to fuck you?” Poe asks him. Finn nods, but Poe says, “Tell me what you want.”

The patient attention Poe gives him when he demands things like this always makes Finn’s stomach bottom out, makes him feel like an endless well of longing. “I want you to fuck me.”

Poe fucks him, and the tension of worry burns like kindling into a fire of want. Words like “You love getting fucked, don’t you?” and “Love having me so deep in you,” have Finn spreading his legs wider, watching twin strands of drool and pre-cum drip from his mouth and his cock onto the bed. It turns Poe on to fuck Finn even though he might get pregnant, and therefore it turns Finn on to be wanted and trusted with such a gift, such a risk.

They both climax fast. While Poe gets up to take his clothes off and wash himself off in the little sink, Finn reaches behind himself and touches his fingers to the warm ejaculate that’s dribbling out from the pucker of his ass. Poe’s _sperm_. Poe’s _fertile_ sperm. Half a baby. Finn swipes his fingers through it and around, rubbing it in.

“Sorry,” Poe says, looking over at the bed while stripping his shirt over his head, exposing his toned chest and flat nipples, which Finn would like to chew on right now. “I didn’t mean to get you all sticky and gross before your shift. I should’ve pulled out.” He’s looking at Finn with this expression that’s a mixture of sheepish and distracted, eyes wavering between Finn’s face and his hand. His ass.

Finn clears his throat, just because he lost his voice in all his wordless shouting. “I like it.”

Poe wobbles a little, like his knees have gone weak. “You like what?” His voice is reedy.

Finn brings his hand up by his face, rests it on the sheet and looks at the film of white drying on his fingers. “When you put it in me,” he says with great effort. He doesn’t know how to say, _I like that you risk impregnating me because it makes me feel loved and trusted and important and powerful and crazy enough to make mistakes with you._

“When I put what in you?” Poe presses on, swaggering toward the bed fully naked.

Finn clears his throat again, rubs his cheek into the pillow. “Your sperm.”

Poe is on him then, perfect weight of him on Finn’s back. “You like when I put my sperm in you, huh?” Poe’s laughing, but he still kisses Finn like he loves him, and before his shift starts, Finn gets to chew on his nipples and squeeze his arms around Poe’s waist to hold him tight.

~~~

After that, it becomes a more common thing. There’s a couple of weeks where Poe fucks him almost every day. It seems more and more like Poe is trying very hard to get him pregnant, now that Finn gave him some kind of permission.

Finn looks at his waistline in the mirror sometimes, wondering how early he would be able to tell. It freaks him out a little, that he might have something growing inside him and not even know it. What is he even going to do with a baby? What is pregnancy even like? He knows enough about anatomy to know that he doesn’t have the parts for the kind of pregnancy he hears people talk about most. But he’s also heard Rey go on and on about being the biological offspring of Luke Skywalker and Han Solo enough to know that some possible things just aren’t talked about that much.

He starts to get nervous about it, even though it still excites him. He comes so hard when he can feel Poe fill him up with sperm, but the anxiety starts to impact his other daily activities. Like talking to Poe and his other friends. Trading stories about the boring tasks of the day and who chewed out whom and what’s for dinner takes on a weird note of dishonesty when Finn feels like he’s holding back from asking, _But what are we going to do when I’m pregnant?_

~~~

He reaches a breaking point at a really inconvenient time. Poe has three fingers inside him, pushing up and in against spots that make Finn’s spine feel like so much electricity, make his lungs collapse in on his racing heart. He’s sore and used, and it feels _so good_ to feel well-used, to feel like Poe is rubbing like that to check that he can take more, and he _can_.

“Think I want you just like this.” Poe guides the tip of Finn’s cock to rest between his lips and lashes his tongue out across his slit.

Finn melts, giving himself over to the push and pull of Poe’s fingers and mouth, and yet—“What about the baby?”

Poe’s laugh is just cool, gentle exhales across the glans of Finn’s cock. “What baby?” Then he pulls up, looking across the darkness up at Finn. “Are you asleep right now? Are you sleep-talking?”

“No!” Finn bites his lip, trying to find push up to Poe’s mouth again, but then grinding back down because the pressure inside him is too good to move away from. He shouldn’t have said anything.

Poe holds his cock still, licking too idly up the ridged length of what escapes his hand. Then he stops. “Wait, what baby?”

“Nothing,” Finn insists. They don’t need to talk about it now. He just wants to come.

“Finn. What baby?”

The sudden and total absence of Poe’s mouth from his cock makes him realize that he made it sound as though there _is_ a baby, for sure, already inside him. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I’m not pregnant yet. At least I don’t think so. Sorry. Just come back.”

Burying his hand in the sweat-damp curls on Poe’s head and trying to guide him back has no effect. “You’re not pregnant _yet_ ,” Poe repeats. Finn’s not sure if he’s supposed to hear that as a sexy threat, or if Poe’s disappointed, or what.

“No,” Finn says, trying to put an end to the discussion so they can move on.

Poe pulls his fingers out and reaches over Finn’s head to turn on a light. It’s probably those two mood-changers that make Finn’s stomach twist in disappointment, and not the fact that Poe looks him seriously in the eye and says, “Finn, are you telling me you’re biologically capable of getting _pregnant_?”

It never occurred to Finn that Poe might not _know_. Even though he himself didn’t know until Rey pointed it out. “You didn’t know?”

Poe drops over onto his back next to him, squeezing him out toward the edge of the narrow bed. He’s pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, which kind of defeats the purpose of turning on the light, but Finn doesn’t pass up the chance to cover himself up, feeling kind of exposed and stupid at the moment. When Poe speaks, he’s talking to the ceiling, and his voice sounds upset. “Do you _really_ think I’m the kind of person to try and impregnate someone without _talking_ about it first?”

Come to think of it, that doesn’t sound like Poe, who makes Finn spell out every little thing they do together just to make sure he actually consents to doing it. Come to _really_ think of it, doing something while avoiding talking about it at all is more of a Finn thing to do.

When Finn doesn’t respond, Poe starts really grinding his hands into his eyes, his shiny fingers making frustrated tangles in his hair. The choked-back tone of his voice melts into something more free-flowing and self-directed. “Oh, god. There were so many—Jesus, fuck, I should have—We could have— _Shit_.”

All of this is making it sound a lot like Poe _doesn’t_ want to get Finn pregnant. Maybe Finn should feel something about that—some disappointment, sadness, inferiority, or relief—but his only thriving instinct in this moment is to reach out and hold the man he loves. He sidles in and wraps his arm around Poe’s middle, snuggling him in close and resting his head on his chest. “It’s not your fault. _I_ didn’t even know until a few weeks ago.”

Poe’s self-recrimination putters on for a few more seconds and then stops. “Wait. How did you find out this information?”

It’s embarrassing, but he wants to be honest. “From Rey.”

The hands come off the eyes then, as Poe raises them up to the sky. His shoulder jostles Finn’s head. “From _Rey_? Finn, tell me what she said.”

Finn brushes his fingers across Poe’s nipple to distract himself from the excruciating task of speaking so openly. “She said you were going to get me pregnant.”

“That’s it?!”

“Yeah, well—”

“She didn’t say, like, I don’t know, ‘Troopers are genetically modified to bear children’ or anything like that? You got this all from one joke about our sex life?”

Finn is slowly starting to put two and two together. Maybe he _had_ jumped the gun. He curls one hand in to spread over his low belly, under the sheet. It doesn’t _feel_ like anything weird is going on down there. “I guess so?”

Poe bounces back to life, rolling Finn onto his back again and straddling his waist to look down at him. His eyes are really pretty. Finn tries to focus on that, and not on the fact that Poe is visibly holding back laughter. “Finn. You can’t get pregnant. Okay? _We_ can’t get pregnant.” Finn squirms, until Poe grabs his chin with his clean hand. “Did those assholes teach you _anything_ about biology, like, at all?”

Finn gives up on getting out of this. He loosens the sheet enough to wrap around Poe’s waist, to keep them both warm and close. “Hey, _cloning_ was more relevant biology in general than—whatever this is. They didn’t want us to. To think about it.” Finn hates the thinness of his voice, and the sinking feeling in his chest when he feels like he’s let down the people he loves. He’s let Poe down _so many times_. He can’t believe he was so stupid, and so selfish.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Poe can always tell when he’s upset. He brushes his thumb sweetly across Finn’s cheek, and his smile softens its teasing edge. “It’s just crazy they didn’t teach you anything, because you’re _so good_ at it.” The reassurance sits nicely at the bottom of Finn’s ribcage, even though he knows it’s reassurance for the sake of reassuring him. He likes being reassured. When Poe drops his forehead down onto his and presses their noses together, Finn tries to tilt up into a kiss. But all that lands on his lips are the words, “I can’t believe you spent all that time worrying you might be knocked up and you didn’t even talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, well, now I don’t have to worry about it anymore.” It’s a huge relief. Finn’s ready to leave it behind them and get back to the part where they get to kiss again. And eventually, figure out a way to get back at Rey without letting her know he made such an embarrassing misinterpretation of her joke.

Maybe there’s a trace of conflict in his voice, because Poe seems to hear it. “You know, I’d want you to talk to me if there was _anything_ you wanted. If you wanted to make a baby.”

Finn pushes Poe up with two hands on his chest just to glare at him for teasing again. “I can’t _have_ a baby,” he declares.

Poe’s still smiling, and it doesn’t seem mean. “If you wanted to _pretend_ to have a baby.”

The thought had never occurred to Finn before, because why would it? Why should he _pretend_ anything, when what he had was so perfect? “That sounds stupid.”

Poe’s dark eyes glitter in the lamplight. “Really? I could fill you up with my load, hold you just right so my sperm get all the way up in you, tell you how pretty you’ll look when you’re pregnant with our baby.”

Something about the way Poe _says_ these things gets Finn rock-hard again, and Poe can _tell_ because his hand is wrapped around his cock. He grins, looking _way_ too happy with himself, and Finn loves him so much, so he pulls him down firmly for a deep, hungry kiss.

“Maybe next time,” Poe says when he crawls down between Finn’s legs to finish the job he started.


End file.
